Sammy's First Christmas
by devonshire64
Summary: weechesters! Little Sammy learns what Christmas is, and Dean learns what it means to believe.


_just to let everyone know, i am an absolute sucker for christmas, and one of my favorite books is the Polar Express. if you have not ready it, then i suggest that you do, even if you dont celebrate christmas, it is still a wonderful story. _

_anyway, this is just a short little story about the holidays, and be warned, i actually made myseld cry!!! lol_

D: dont own them.

**SAMMY'S FIRST CHRISTMAS**

For a four year old Sammy Winchester knew a lot of things. He knew how to tie his shoelaces and how to count to twenty, not just ten, but twenty! He knew how to ride his bike, though it still had training wheels and he knew how to bounce a basket ball. He knew that his Daddy was strong, and that he fought monsters, and he knew, without a doubt, that Dean was the best big brother the world had ever seen. Superman couldn't hold a candle to him. Yes, the preschooler did know a lot.

But then, there were a lot of things that the little boy didn't know. For instance, he didn't know how to play hopscotch, and couldn't for the life of him figure out how to spin a hoola-hoop. He didn't know how to spell, though he did know his ABCs, and he couldn't really figure out what all the other kids meant by vacation. He didn't know how to kill a demon, but that's what his Daddy and Dean were for. He also didn't know his mother, though he had heard a lot of really great stories about her.

But, most of all, he didn't know what was making people crazy over the last few weeks. I mean, people were putting lights on trees and hugging a big, scary man in a red suit, what was with that! Dean had told him not to be afraid, but the little boy still asked his father, in all the seriousness a four year old could muster, if he was gone hunt that weird guy. A question to which his father only laughed. No, Sammy didn't know what was happening, but he did know, that no matter what, Dean would keep him safe, so when he told him not to worry, Sammy didn't worry.

"You wanner go sit on his lap?" Dean asked, his gloved hand wrapped tightly around Sam's mittened ones, his voice muffled by a thick scarf. Sammy looked up at his big brother as though he had just asked him to eat worms, the idea of going anywhere near that scary man was absurd. What was Dean thinking?

"Why?"

"So you can ask him what you want for Christmas."

"What's Christmas?"

"It's that time of year when Santa brings you presents." Dean stated, pointing at the scary man, who was now laughing along with a little girl.

"Why would he do that?"

"Because, that's what he does."

"Oh."

"So, you wanna sit on his lap?"

"No! He scares me."

"I told you not to be scared."

"I know, but I don't wanna go."

"Ok."

"Hey, Dean."

"Yeah?"

"Does everyone get their own Santa, because, I have seen a lot of them around?"

"No, there's only one real one. The rest are just helpers."

"Oh. Then how does he give me my present?"

"He comes down the chimney and leaves it under the tree at night."

"Oh. Is that why he never came before, because Daddy doesn't have a fireplace?"

"No, Sammy." Dean answered, a sigh in his voice.

"Then, why doesn't he come?"

Dean wanted to say because he wasn't real, wanted to tell the little boy beside him that there used to be a Santa before their mom died, but instead he just smiled. He had finally managed to save money, would finally be able to get little Sammy a present, and he wanted his brother to enjoy everything he had once loved about Christmas. He wanted Sammy to be able to believe in something good, because all he had ever known was the bad.

"Because we move around a lot, he has had trouble finding us."

"But, we have been here forever."

"I know, Santa must know where we are this year."

"You really think he'll come?" Sammy's eyes grew as big as saucers, his four year old face shinning in excitement as he looked over at the man with renewed interest.

"Yeah, Sammy, I do. You can go ask him if you want." Dean answered smiling, pointing to the man in red.

"I thought you said that was an impostor?"

"I didn't say impostor, I said helper. He'll tell the real Santa everything."

"Really!"

"Really. So, you wanna talk to him?"

"You promise it's safe."

"I promise."

"Ok!" Sammy nearly screamed as he pulled his brother towards the bearded man, all his previous fears gone, washed away by Dean's promise.

"Hello there, little boy." The man smiled down as Sam approached, reaching over to pick up the small boy. Sam immediately recoiled at the action, nearly knocking Dean off his feet as he wrapped his little arms around the older boy's waist, all fear suddenly returning.

"It's ok, Sammy." Dean whispered as his pried his brother off of him. "I promised, remember?"

"Yeah."

"Ok, then go, tell him what you want for Christmas." Dean already knew what Sammy would say, already knew that the present was hidden beneath his bed. It was the only thing the little boy had been able to talk about for weeks. He wanted a Ghostbuster gun, so he could be just like his Daddy, he had even shown both Dean and John the clipping from the magazine.

"Hello there, Sammy." Santa spoke, the little boy still tense and fearful in his lap.

"How did you know my name?"

"I know everything. I also know that you are a brave little boy."

"Not as brave as my Daddy, or my brother!"

"Well, I'm sure when you get a little bit older that you will be. Now, what can I get you for Christmas?"

"I want a Ghostbuster laser gun, and the trap." Sammy nearly shouted, bouncing up and down, his big brown eyes growing even wider in excitement. Dean sighed a little, he had been able to get the gun, but he didn't have enough money to buy the trap.

"Well, well, that is quite a present."

"I know, but you've never come to my house before, so maybe I can get it to make up for the other times."

Dean could see the kind man's face falter a little, Sammy probably the only child he had ever met that didn't know who he was.

"Well, Sammy, I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you." And Sam jumped off the man's lap, running the few feet back to his brother.

"And what about you, young man?" Santa asked, eyeing Dean. After all, eight year olds should be excited about Santa, too.

"I'm ok."

"Come on, Dean. You said he would be able to find our house this year, he won't know what to get you if you don't tell him." Dean could not have been more amazed at his brother's innocent, trusting nature. After all, this was the man that Sam had suggested hunting the day before, and now he was the little boy's new best friend, the idea of Christmas fully ingrained in his young heart. And Dean just couldnt resist his brother.

"Ok, Sammy, I'll tell him."

"Ok. Santa." Sam began, pulling Dean over to the man. "This is my big brother, Dean. He's the best big brother in the whole wide world."

"Hello, Dean."

"Hi."

"So, tell me, what can I get you for Christmas?"

Dean leaned in, not wanting his baby brother to hear what he was asking. Dean learned long ago that there would be no more Christmas's for him. That tradition died along with their mother. Dad tried, he really did, but she had died so shortly before the start of the season, only weeks before Thanksgiving, and the eight year old knew that that time of year was always very hard on their Dad.

Santa frowned and pulled back, looking the child before him up and down, obviously not having excepted the answer he received. It was almost as though he were an adult wrapped in a child's body, his wish so sincere, so touching that it actually brought a tear to the old man's eye. He took a deep breath before patting Dean on the shoulder.

"You'd be surprised what can happen if you just believe."

"Thank you, Santa."

"You're welcome, Dean."

"Come one, Sammy. Dad said to be back before dinner."

"Ok! Bye, Santa!" Sammy waved enthusiastically as he took his brother's hand, Santa giving a small, solemn wave as the two little boys walked away.

John couldn't figure out what had made Sammy so giddy, the little boy completely unable to sit still ever since he and his brother had returned home from their walk. Sam just kept smiling, kept humming some strange little tune as he bounced up and down at the kitchen table. Honestly, John couldn't remember the last time he had seen his little boy so happy.

"So." He began, looking both his boys over. Dean was smiling too, the first real smile he had seen from the stoic child in a long time, and it was heartwarming. Their small apartment was decorated with lopsided paper chains and a cheap little Christmas tree that Dean had made out of construction paper. It wasn't much, but to John it was all his small and battered family needed.

The hunt had been long and hard, the three having been in the small Midwestern town for nearly four months. But now, after all his hard work, all his sleepless nights, it was finally over. And he was looking forward to his short break, well short by means of how long it took him to drive to his next gig.

"Yeah, Daddy?" Sammy beamed as he continued to hum his little song, chomping away happily on his mac and cheese.

"I finished my work here, if we head out early tomorrow morning we should be in our new home in a few days. It will be warmer there."

Sam froze so quickly that John wouldn't have been surprised if someone had pressed a pause button. His big brown eyes grew teary, as his fork fell to the plate, bottom lip trembling as he held back the urge to cry.

"Sammy, what's wrong?" John was immediately up and at his young son's side, his mind racing. Maybe he had become possessed, maybe he was sick, maybe something had gotten in the house.

"We can't leave."

"Why not?"

"Because he won't be able to find us again. This is the first time he could."

"Who, Sammy, who's looking for you?" John was in full panic mode, his little boy crying harder and harder as he held him.

"Santa!"

"What?"

"Dean said Santa never came before because he couldn't find us." The little boy began, wiping away his tears. "But, we've been here for such a long time that he can find us now. And Dean took me to see him and he asked me what I wanted."

"You boys went to see Santa?"

"Yes, Sir." Dean spoke up for the first time, his voice clipped, answer strong and practiced. He was a little soldier answering a question. But his eyes gave it all away, the moss green orbs were empty, downcast, the smile he had worn a few moments before now completely wiped away.

"You don't have to hunt him anymore, Daddy, he's a nice man." Sammy spoke up.

"I know he is."

"Daddy?" Sammy asked again, his tears now dry.

"Yes, Sammy?"

"When is Christmas?"

"It's tomorrow."

"Can't we stay, just till tomorrow's over?"

"Sure, Son. We can stay."

The next morning dawned clear and cold, the deep snow glistening in the early winter sun. It was a perfect day, Dean thought, absolutely perfect. He had left his little brother's present, wrapped in newspaper, beneath the small tree he had made at school. The older boy's heart was light, he didn't need anything, didn't really want anything, other then for his little brother to be happy, for Sammy to have just a little bit of the life he had remembered, to share in the joy he had had before their mother died.

"Dean! Dean! Santa came, he really, really came!" Sammy bounded back into the room shouting, jumping up and down on his brother's bed, pulling the groggy boy up with his little arms. "You have to come see! He really, really came!"

"Ok, Sammy." Dean smiled as he walked from his room, stopping for a moment when he saw not one, but two little packages beneath the tree.

"Where's Dad?"

"I dunno? Maybe he went to get breakfast. Hey."

"What?"

"These both say my name on them." He answered in confusing, wondering where his big brother's present was. "You can have one though."

"It's ok, Sammy." Dean answered quietly as he sat on the sofa, after all, this was his little brother's day.

Sammy smiled his big, little boy smile and tore into the two packages. "Look, Dean, it's a Ghostbuster laser gun!"

"Cool."

"Wow!! And it's a Ghostbuster trap, too." He smiled excitedly as he tore into the other present, Dean's heart beating a little faster. "Hey!"

"What?"

"I found you're present, it's really small thought." Sam looked quizzically at the small card in his hands.

"Let me see." Dean took the note, tearing it open as his heart continued to beat faster and faster. _"You'd be surprised what can happen if you just believe."_ Dean studied the words over and over again, it was the same thing the nice old man had said to him yesterday.

Just then there was a loud banging against the door, followed shortly by their father's gruff voice. "Boy's a little help here."

Dean jumped up and answered the door, his father rushing in with four large grocery bags, and a smile that Dean hadn't seen in a long time. "What's all this?"

"Stuff to cook breakfast. Christmas breakfast."

"Really?" Dean asked, his eyes growing in excitement. He had always helped him mom cook Christmas breakfast.

"Yeah, and, I got another surprise for you."

"What?"

John just smiled and retreated back out onto the small porch, appearing a moment later with two small sleds. "There's a big hill a few blocks from here. I figured we could go test it out after breakfast."

Dean's eyes lite up, his heart swelling like it never had before. He hadn't been sledding since his mother died. He looked down once more at the card he still held in his hands, his secret Christmas wish had actually come true.


End file.
